


The Work must be Done

by wisia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Espionage, Gen, M/M, Percy Weasley-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17194577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: The work must be done. Someone had to do it, and if they all assumed someone else would then there would be no one to actually do it. The Ministry of Magic was in luck. Percy Weasley works like no other person does.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Eh, trying something out. Naturally, I wanted to write spy!Percy. Don't know if I'll continue it, but it's here. I'll add and update the tags if I continue writing. I can safely say my end pairing will probably be Percy/Oliver.
> 
> This is not beta-ed and probably needs a British eye for accuracy.

                The work must be done. Someone had to do it, and if they all assumed someone else would then there would be no one to actually do it. The Ministry of Magic was in luck. There _was_ someone to do the work, to settle in, and neatly tie up all the little tasks, bits and pieces. Someone to oil the machine and grease the gears for more.

                Percival Ignatius Weasley worked. Everyone else had gone home and clocked out for the day, but he still remained at his desk, infamous red head bent over scrolls and sheaves of paper. His blue eyes beneath his horn rimmed glasses caught everything. He pushed on, even as his eyelids blink to droop, a cup of tea at his elbow. As his quill scratched out replies and remarks, as he toiled away with the candle burning low, Percy’s magic seeped into the desk, into the stone floor beneath him and into the very foundation of the ministry building. Percy didn’t notice as the building creaked in tune with the wind. The building had never found anyone that bled themselves into the very roots where magic became law and organized rules—not since its walls were first raised and order brought. The building hummed. Something momentous would take place.

                Percy Weasley worked on though, unaware of the building and of the way his magic touched the ministry. He was too absorbed in his work. It was a quarter to seven, and he still hadn’t finished the work allotted. It was hard to be fulfilled or satisfied when the work never ends, and the results were years away to being tangible. He didn’t complain, and by eight Percy’s pile dented considerably. He looked at it and sighed. It would only last the night. There would be more work. Still, Percy counted himself lucky that he still had a job. That he could work at all. Percy finally extinguished the candle and checked his pockets before locking down the office of _International Magical Cooperation_ for the night.

                There was work to be done, and Percy would do it as long as he could.


	2. Eighteen

                The Burrow was dark when Percy apparrated home. There was one light in the kitchen, and Percy grimaced. Was it his dad or mum that was up? He thought they left for a dinner of some sorts or the other. It played a role in his staying late. He banished his briefcase to his room, heading for the kitchen. He could get it over with now and leave for work early in the morning.

                To Percy’s surprise, his eldest brother, Bill, sat at the table as if he had never left. His lone earing gleamed, unobscured by his long hair for once. Bill had his hair tied up, and a soft smile graced his lips.

                “Bill, you’re home!”

                It was too loud in the quiet of the Burrow and too eager. Bill didn’t mind.

                “Hello Perce. You missed dinner.”

                “Yes, well, I had a lot to do.” Percy winced. It was a mild chiding, different from mum but still a chiding all the same. “It’s been a mess…”

                Percy stepped closer, slowly. Did Bill know about the tournament? He didn’t need to worry. Bill dragged him into a hug as soon as Percy was in range and ruffled his hair.

                “Hey!” Percy protested out of reflex. He could never get his curly hair to behave.

                “Relax.” Bill swatted Percy’s fingers away from his hair. “And sit.”

                A cup floated in front of Percy, and tea poured out of the old cracked china teapot. It was steaming hot and fragrant.

                “Thanks.” Percy didn’t drink it quite yet, unable to tear his eyes away from Bill. It was better with Bill home. Better when Charlie was home too. Still, Percy had to ask. “Why are you home?”

                “I’ve got an itching to my little brother.”

                “Which one?” Percy asked, earning a slight flick to his forehead. Bill reoccupied his seat, movements smooth as he leaned back, tilting the chair.

                “Dad told you then?” Percy continued. There was no other reason for Bill to be here otherwise.

                “Mum actually.” He raised an eyebrow at Percy. “So…Crouch, huh.”

                Percy paused. The Triwizard Tournament was a disaster. He was so happy to work for Mr. Crouch. He received and juggled so many duties his head spun. It was worth it till the aftermath.

                Bill waited.

                “I—I didn’t know, “ Percy said, admitted and watched Bill’s expression. Bill had no reaction at all, not one that Percy could tell anyway. It was strangely reassuring, and he felt himself loosen before tightening up again. “It was—he gave me a lot of work. I was trying to—“

                Percy sucked in a deep breath. His heart rattled in his chest, and sweat started prickling alongside his temples. “I couldn’t. I swear I didn’t know he wasn’t Mr. Crouch.”

                It was the same thing he had said during the trials two weeks ago. He said it over and over again. They questioned him and prodded him because how could he not know? How did Percy not realize his superior was an imposter?

                He swallowed, mouth dry. “I really didn’t know, Bill.”

                “I believe you.”

                “I swear,” Percy started and stopped. “You, you do?”

                Bill nodded, and Percy almost wept in relief. Instead, Percy’s voice cracked.

                “I, thanks, Bill. It’s been—it’s been hellish the past two weeks.”

                It wasn't enough to deal with the talks behind his back. It was the stares—the who let Percy take any charge?

                “I can imagine.” Bill nudged Percy’s tea closer to him.

                Percy pushed his glasses up, the heel of his palms pressed hard into his eyes. There was an ache in his shoulders and a dull pounding in his head. He did not realize how much he hurt.

                “Percy,” Bill said, patient and soft. “You’re only eighteen.”

                Heat swept down Percy’s neck and across his cheeks. His eyes snapped back up to face Bill’s. “Eighteen? I’ll have you know—“

                “Percy,” Bill said, short and sharp. Percy’s mouth clamped shut. “As smart as you are, you _are_ only eighteen. It’s nothing to be embarrassed of.”

                Bill nodded to himself. “It’s hard to be eighteen.”

                “You’re not that much older,” Percy grumbled, obligated to point that out.

                “No,” Bill agreed, “but there are some things you just don’t know. I’m still learning myself. I wouldn’t expect you to know Crouch was fake. It’s a stupid thing to expect of you. Not when you just started and didn’t know the man as well as someone who’d known him longer.”

                “But I should have known.” And that was a problem. Percy didn’t mind doing the work, but he wasn’t stupid.

                “How? Even if you suspected, how?”

                “I could have reported it to someone.” Percy’s stomach churned. He really could have. The owl post could have been from anyone besides Mr. Crouch.

                Bill shook his head. “Drink your tea. We’ll—it’ll be all right, you see.”

                It was true. Percy was made junior assistant to Cornelius Fudge.

 

 


End file.
